Black Tears
by masruiiiik
Summary: The only thing Deidara was scared of was being another nameless, faceless partner to Sasori like the other hundreds of partners that the redhead would no doubt acquire. SasoDei


**Black Tears**

Art/: A fleeting moment of beauty that would last in one's memory forever.

Deidara would like to say that he hated Sasori.

But that would be a lie. 

There were things about Sasori that he hated, no doubt, but there were things about the redhead that intrigued the blonde all the same.

Deidara hated the cold shoulder and the harsh words that the puppet master threw at him everyday.

But that made the few compliments that Sasori gifted Deidara with all the more special.

Deidara hated the way Sasori cloaked himself inside of Hiruko, hiding his eternal youth and beauty.

But that made the times that Deidara actually saw Sasori's real form all that more of a gift and it made the blonde appreciate the redhead's grace even more.

And Deidara couldn't help but pity Sasori's clouded vision of true art. He could see that Sasori's eternal youth wasn't just in physical form, but in subconscious and mental visage as well. Sasori never grew up. He was like a little kid, clinging onto his toys and refusing to give up on the things he held dear to.

Deidara saw countless of times, the way Sasori turned a once warm human into a cold, wooden contraption. The way the puppets' eyes gleamed from the hundreds of nooks and crannies that they hung from, and Deidara could't help but shiver every time he saw their cold, lifeless forms.

"I won't ever be like that," Deidara whispered vehemently to himself, even as he watched Sasori glance at him from the corner of his eye, and he saw the redhead's grasp on his scalpel tighten ever so slightly. "I'm a fiery inferno. I'm art. I'm fleeting. Sasori's not fast enough to catch me, yeah."

And as Deidara screamed in pain and anguish while Sasori proceeded to use the scalpel to remove his left eye, Deidara wondered about Sasori. And he wondered how something that's so-called eternal could move so quickly.

And yet, the blood continued to drip.

Deidara hated the small, enclosed space that's Sasori's room. Yet, he couldn't help himself and almost against his will, the blonde wandered into the dark room.

Blackness seeped into his vision as his one blue eye glanced around. Trying not to see anything, but unable to stop himself all the same. The puppets were still lying on the tables and bed; they're still strung from the ceilings, their doll-like faces begged Deidara to play with them. Deidara ignored their sad, pleading faces, and instantly, his attention was drawn to the covered jar sitting proudly on Sasori's workbench.

He couldn't help himself. Going up to the wooden bench, he reached out and grasped the jar. The coolness of the glass was prominent, even through the cloth, and Deidara wondered how in the world Sasori managed to keep it so cold in a normal room-temperature environment.

Gulping, Deidara reached out and removed the cloth. A dull, lifeless blue eye stared up at him, and Deidara couldn't help the wave of nausea that rushed through him. The way Sasori had held the scalpel in his hands, the way he stabbed his sharp tools into the blonde's left eye, all that dark red liquid splattering all over the walls…it was a beautiful nightmare.

And everything became too dark and bright at the same time, and before Deidara knew it, he was falling…falling…falling…

_Someone, save me…_

Deidara saw Sasori whip around in anger. He couldn't help himself. He had to infuriate the Akasuna; he had to make him angry enough to kill. That was the only time the puppet master ever paid heed to him.

He saw the metal scorpion tail fly towards him, and he wondered again, _How can something eternal move so quickly?_ and on reflex, Deidara dodged and jumped to his left, a cocky smirk in place as he saw Sasori sneer in anger.

"That proves my point, brat," Sasori spat out, anger lacing his tone and Deidara watched as the venom dripped on the floor, it's acid burning holes into the wood. "You want to live. You don't want to die. Art is eternal." And then Sasori disappeared, like he did every time after bringing Deidara down.

Deidara watched the retreating form of his Danna and another wave of pity ran through him. Sasori had to learn to move on, having him hold onto the false picture that everything lasts forever would only make the inevitable loss that much more painful.

Wiping the cocky smirk away from his face, Deidara sighed and picked himself up. He walked in the opposite direction of the puppeteer, knowing that Sasori would want some time to himself, to cool down. But Deidara couldn't help but wait in trepidation for Sasori to open the door to his room again. Maybe one day, the redhead would get sick of fighting with the blonde and opening his door all the same. And maybe one day, Deidara would be stuck outside, knocking pathetically on a forever locked door.

_Am I scared?_

Deidara wondered as he lay in a fit on the bed. He felt cold all over, yet he was sweating and he couldn't seem to stop. Sasori walked around the room, picking up specific vials and looking as monotonous as he did everyday.

Deidara guessed that in a way, he deserved this. Sasori had specifically told him not to bother him today, or he'd suffer the consequences. But the blonde couldn't help himself (he could never seem to help himself). Every moment not in the presence of his Danna, made the blonde more worried that one day, centuries after centuries after centuries later, Sasori would no longer remember him. And he'd just be another empty comrade that Sasori had once known.

And that scared him.

Sasori was eternal. He could live forever under the proper care. He would meet countless of people; he would kill more than that. And then what?

Deidara was fleeting. He was a bright flash that would light up the sky once he was ready. A few people may remember him, but his Danna? His Danna was important. He was special and beautiful and deadly like the poisons he so loved. He had no need of a fading memory of a blonde boy who spent his time infuriating him.

One day, the blonde would just be a black and white photograph with singed edges and fading ink. His voice would be no more than a distant echo and his face would only be a smudged, unidentifiable picture.

Maybe that was what scared him.

Deidara nodded his head weakly, even as Sasori moved up to him to press the needle that housed the antidote of the poison running through his bloodstream into his pasty arm. That was what scared him.

The only thing that scared Deidara was the thought that centuries and centuries later, he's be nothing more than another nameless, faceless partner that Sasori once had, next to the other hundreds of other partners that the redhead would undoubtedly acquire.

Deidara gave a weak laugh as the red liquid bubbled in his mouth and spilled down his lips. Sasori's face swam into his vision, his brown eyes more clouded than ever, and Deidara laughed again.

He'd make sure, before he went out with a bloody bang, that Sasori would always remember him.

"Are you scared of me?" Sasori had asked, honest curiosity tinting his voice.

Deidara glanced up, and once again, he saw a small, scared little boy who had just lost his parents. He looked around briefly and wondered where his mean, scary, cold and spiteful Danna had wandered off to.

"I'm not scared of you, yeah." Deidara had answered the little boy honestly, after deducing that the search of his Danna was in vain. The little boy nodded his head with a bright smile and Deidara became worried that his Danna had left him.

"Well you should be, brat." And then, the little boy seemed to lose his innocence, and in his place was a cold, broken-hearted man with a black heart. And despite what he had said, and the sudden change, Deidara felt relieved at the killer's near presence.

Deidara walked into Sasori's room again. Nothing had changed. Puppets were still placed in every crevice, the blackness of the room was still as intoxicating as before, and the shadows of the room still seemed to laugh in despair at him.

He walked to the covered jar that was still placed in the exact same spot as last time. Deidara grabbed the jar and marvelled at how cool the glass still was, and this time, without hesitation, Deidara pulled away the cloth and let it flutter gently to the ground.

A dark, stormy eye greeted him. Deidara watched in morbid fascination and realized with a slight jolt, that the blue was hardly visible any more. The once bright, clear, innocent cerulean color had been replaced with a black, tainted eye that continued to wither away.

It was dying, Deidara realized with sick delight. It was dying away, and it was telling him—

Deidara placed the jar back on the exact spot from where he had plucked the glass from in the first place, and recovered the eye. He turned around and began making his way to the door, the puppets clinking together in a chorus of twisted farewells, and the shadows on the walls danced in their own symphony, crying out for Deidara to come back.

He walked out of the room, revelling in the information he just received. It was almost time. He was ready to become true art.

"Danna?" Deidara sat on the floor a fair distance away from the puppet master, who was sitting on his workbench, tinkering with one puppet or another. "What would you do if I died, yeah?"

Deidara watched as Sasori suddenly froze. Even the clinking of the puppets stopped and Deidara glanced up at them, to see their sad wooden faces staring down at him.

Finally, Sasori seemed to regain his composure. "I would do nothing." He spat out furiously. "What do you expect me to do? Mourn for you? If you die, you die. Pain will just get me a new partner."

Deidara nodded at his logical reasoning, and continued to watch as his blood dripped onto the floor. But for some reason, Sasori didn't seem to notice it. Drip…drip…drip…

"Will you remember me, Danna, yeah?"

Sasori paused again, but this time longer. Deidara watched as Sasori stopped, still hunched over a part of his precious puppet, and his one eye trailed to his Danna's wooden hand which had seemed to unconsciously begin to shake.

"Don't be ridiculous, brat. Why would I remember you?" Sasori said quietly, but Deidara didn't detect the usual disdain in his voice.

The blonde nodded sadly, and breathed out a silent sigh. Maybe he wasn't ready to die yet. But one look at the figure of his Danna was more than enough to convince him…he was ready to go out with a bang.

"I'm going to die soon. I just have to find the perfect moment to go, yeah." Deidara was sitting in Sasori's room, talking to Sasori's puppets. After having those wooden contraptions beg with him for so long to keep them company, Deidara finally decided to follow their wishes.

The puppets clinked together and gazed at the blonde with glassy eyes. Deidara snorted and a smirk graced his face. "I'm not scared. I'm not scared of anything, yeah. But…do you guys think Danna will remember me when I'm gone?"

The puppets stared down sadly at Deidara and the blonde gave out a small, derived laugh. "Stupid question, I know, yeah…"

Their wooden faces with shiny eyes continued to stare down pitifully at Deidara as he continued to giggle and mumble incoherently to himself.

"Danna?"

Sasori glanced back at the blonde as they continued walking down the dirt road. "What?" He answered in Hiruko's deep, grave voice.

"Art is fleeting," Deidara continued with a smirk, ignoring Hiruko's exasperated eye roll and dangerously waving tail. "Everything has to be fleeting so you can learn to move on."

He saw the scorpion tail fly towards him and out of pure instinct, he leapt away. Sasori hissed angrily at him, the tail still hovering several feet above Hiruko's head.

"Shut up, brat. I don't want to hear a single sound coming from you for the rest of the journey." Sasori said and turned around and began moving again.

And for the first time ever, Deidara felt the need to kill Sasori, just so the puppet master would learn that nothing could be eternal. And how painful forever can really be. Who wanted to live forever anyways? Just staying completely the same while having to watch everyone around you age and grow and die.

The moment the thought of spilling Sasori's blood onto the floor crossed his mind, Deidara felt sick and hurriedly attempted to squash the thought.

He glanced back at the rapidly disappearing form of Hiruko and whispered sadly, "I just want you to be happy, yeah." 

_This is the perfect moment._

Deidara realized excitedly. He was on a solo-mission, so he couldn't harm Sasori when he blew himself up, and the puppet master couldn't try to stop him. He was currently lying across the field from Itachi's younger brother, and both were trying to catch their breath.

It was perfect, Deidara thought with a laugh as he glanced up at the endless blue sky. They were both desperate, so when he went out with a bang, it wouldn't just be a suicide attempt. He actually had a reason to blow himself up. And he'd be able to take the Uchiha-brat with him.

Without a second thought, Deidara ripped off his shirt and cut open the strings containing his chest mouth. And then, the monstrosity that was his chest mouth was bore to the world.

_Sasori-no-Danna…_

Deidara cackled in pure glee at the look of terror that had graced the youngest Uchiha's face.

_Sasori never grew up. He was like a little kid, clinging onto his toys and refusing to give up on the things he held dear to._

"Now show me your fear!" Deidara barely registered the words he was speaking. And that voice didn't sound like his. It sounded so twisted and demented.

_And everything became too dark and bright at the same time, and before Deidara knew it, he was falling…falling…falling… Someone, save me…_

"Drown yourself in awe and despair!"

"_Danna, what would you do if I died, yeah?"  
><em>

"Cry like a lost child!"  
><em><br>Deidara was fleeting. He was a bright flash that would light up the sky once he was ready. A few people may remember him, but his Danna? His Danna was important. He was special and beautiful and deadly like the poisons he so loved. He had no need of a fading memory of a blonde boy who spent his time infuriating him._

"Because my art…"

_He glanced back at the rapidly disappearing form of Hiruko and whispered sadly, "I just want you to be happy, yeah."_

"Is an EXPLOSION!"

_Please remember me, Danna…_

And in his last moments of consciousness, Deidara remembered how his Danna made the people he loved or held in high regard into puppets, so he'd have them forever. And he wondered briefly if his Danna would turn him into a puppet too.

And then he gave out a crazed laugh.

_(There won't be anything left of me to make a puppet, yeah.)_

_Please be happy, Danna…_

And then, Deidara became nothing more than a faded black and white picture with singed corners. And his despairing voice continued to echo dully through the forest.

-o-

_A/N: I plan on writing a companion fic to this, most probably called 'Red Sand' and it's basically their whole story in Sasori's perspective. So it'd be cool if you check out that story too (once I upload it) if you liked this story._

_Thank you everyone who read this and I hope you enjoyed it._

_Leave and review and tell me your thoughts!_

_Love,_

_Harmony_


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